


Revive Essentia

by TwinKats



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Canon, Ancient History, Azriel - Warlord Human Red Soul, Canon-Typical Violence, Caprice - Orange Soul, Culture Shock, Fake Science, Ghosts, Magic, Mistakes were made, Monster Biology, Monster-Human War, People Screw Up A Lot, Pre-Accident W. D. Gaster, Pre-Undertale, Sans probably will make an appearance, Seven Human Mages, Skeletons, Soul Magic, Theorizing Undertale, Theorizing With Colors, Theorizing With Souls, Veda - Light Blue Soul, Warlord Human, and a lot more characters will make an appearance, human magic, i think, i'll spruce the tags up when i've got more info to share, monster magic, okay there is a lot to this, other characters to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:42:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8328412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinKats/pseuds/TwinKats
Summary: War was inevitable. Humans knew too little about the SOUL and the magic that came from it. Those who fought, those who struggled--friendships broken and lost, shattered as lines were drawn in the sand...no one with an understanding of magic wanted a war. Not even those who begged for battle. All knew its inevitability, though.Humans just knew too little about the SOUL, after all.





	

To be honest, as they sat upon their throne like chair in the antechamber of the home provided to them by the mages council, they didn’t bother to honestly listen to the message brought to them. They knew without a shadow of a doubt what happened; they could read it in the faint tremble of the limbs. They could taste it upon the frantic sparks of magic that wafted off of the messenger before them. They didn’t really need to express their boredom, although the faint sigh and the slight twist of their fisted palm against their cheek told enough. 

Wrapped around the arm of the throne-like chair, Caprice let out a faint mewl of frustration as well. They glanced down to her, one hand moved to gently curl into the golden locks, twisted and braided atop of her head. The motion meant to soothe her as much as it soothed them, and the shift allowed the bangs in front of their face to part just enough that one, bright red eye pierced the messenger. 

“My dearest sister,” Caprice said loftily as she leaned into their touch, “has gotten the basics of your…message. The point should be received, so what would that be?” 

“M-Master Veda requests your presence,” the messenger breathed out. 

They hummed, shifted, and their bangs once more shifted to cover their eyes up from all others. They didn’t say anything, although they stroked their hand down Caprice’s bare neck, before they pushed up and gracefully got to their feet. 

“M-Milord?” the messenger questioned faintly. 

“Beloved Veda, attendance shall be met shortly,” Caprice mused and she unfolded her legs from beneath her and, like a waterfall, rose with shimmering gowns and pearls. They smiled faintly at her as they picked up their stave—a twisted, gnarled old thing that made a soft noise with every motion from the strings of bells tied at the top. 

Without a word they left the room, and the messenger, behind. Caprice followed after them, gliding along the ground as if it weren’t even really there. She stayed just behind them, off towards their left. One of her hands came up to her hair and carefully unpinned the braided locks to allow them to flow freely down her back. 

“Sister,” Caprice asked sweetly. “Sadness will only infect you further.” 

They smiled, somewhat bitterly, and shifted their head slightly so that Caprice could catch it. Their bangs stayed resolutely over their eyes, blocking everything but the lower half of their face from view. 

“You hold onto foolish dreams,” Caprice sighed. She wrapped herself around their arm and pouted up at them. “Falling isn’t limited to the inverse, sister.” 

Their hand clenched slightly, but their smile didn’t fade and they gently shook their head. No words needed to be said to Caprice because, like always, Caprice could read them without words. They’d been together for so long that words between them weren’t needed, although she often gave words anyway. Carefully they shook their arm free, gently cupped Caprice’s face, and planted a kiss to her forehead. 

“Oh you bitter old fool,” Caprice sighed. “Your regrets will take you.” 

The tilt of their lips said ‘ _I know_ ’ even as they slipped away from her, slipped down the hall and toward the transportation room. Caprice followed after them with her eyes half closed, a soft sigh across her lips. The room itself held little to nothing. A few bits of drapery here and there, and a long singular archway lined in runes and glittering stones. The conduit for magical travel that they kept highly guarded under wards. Carefully they brushed their fingers across the archway, lighting up runes with the faintest of touches. The passcode seemed random to any stranger looking in, but they knew where it would take them. 

“One piece,” Caprice said softly. “Not many, but _one_ my dearest sister. That is how you will return to me.” 

They huffed. Always so concerned about them, Caprice was. 

“I will see you at Veda’s,” Caprice told them. They nodded once, and with a flare of crimson magic vanished from the room.

* * *

Their burgundy cloak fluttered about them as the crimson magic whipped about them, and then slipped away entirely. For a second their hair twisted in the magical wind, their cloak and their clothes moved like they had a life of their own, and then their feet touched the ground lightly and their staff made a soft jangle of noise as they tapped it once onto the ground. They stroked their free hand through their hair with a sigh, brushing back the long locks of their bangs as they tilted their head toward the sky, eyes closed to bask in the warmth. 

They didn’t need to look to know that they were surrounded by moss-covered stonework that stood almost as ancient as time itself. They didn’t need to see the garden landscape that surrounded them, unkempt and yet somehow pleasing to the eye. They didn’t need to see the colors, hear the sounds, or even smell the scents to know precisely where they were. For a moment they just stood there, basked in the sunlight with a peaceful smile to their face. 

They let the magic of the earth, of the ruins, surround them like a comforting blanket before they took one step, and then other, and began to trudge sure-footed deeper into the overgrown structure. Within the centermost room their intended target sat on a simple stone bench. Her large furred paws carefully touched at the flowers as she waited. When they entered the room, the vines brushed out of their way with their staff, she looked up and they could feel the smile that crossed her muzzle. 

“Azzy,” she said softly. 

They dipped their head toward her in greeting, and faintly murmured, “Toriel,” in a near whisper. 

Toriel got to her feet and brushed down her purple dress. She strode right up to them and embraced them in a tight hug with a smile. 

“You’re late, my friend,” she teased lightly. 

They let a small, amused smile grace their lips. 

“I’m sorry,” they murmured and gently placed their stave against the stonework. They took both of her furred paws into their hands. “Business came up.” 

“Oh,” Toriel murmured. “Urgent business then? Good business? Bad business? Oh goodness, I don’t mean to pry….” 

They sighed. 

“Poor tidings, I agree,” they said and glanced away. “It is always poor tidings of late.” 

Toriel frowned, and then returned the grasp of her hands. She leaned forward and placed a kiss to their cheek. 

“You mustn’t let it get to you, Azzy,” Toriel chided. “Everything will work out. Have heart, dear.” 

They pulled away from her grip; the messenger and Veda still clear in their mind. They hadn’t needed to hear the concerns to know what happened—they feared a day like this for so long now. They feared to stand here, to speak with Toriel on a topic that they knew would leave them with further regrets. They turned slightly away from Toriel, and then gazed up at the sky. 

“…how is Asgore?” they asked, in lieu of continue the conversation Toriel started. 

“Busy,” Toriel huffed and turned away. She held her paws in front of her dress with an exasperated sigh. “The clans heap more and more demands on him by the day. I barely get to see him except when night has fallen most days now.” 

That was worrying. They tilted their head down, chided themselves for the topic of conversation. Must everything inevitably lead up until now? 

“Azzy?” Toriel questioned, puzzled by their sudden silence. 

They closed their eyes and sighed. 

“Sit with me,” they said, and gestured to the stone bench. 

“Something is wrong,” Toriel noted. Her muzzle pulled into a frown and her brow furrowed. “Azzy… _Azriel_ , tell me what happened. What is wrong.” 

They didn’t answer at first. Instead they brushed passed her and settled down onto the bench. Unlike the haphazard way they laid upon their throne like chair, here they settled into a slump and buried their face into their hands. They breathed slowly, counted down in their mind, and waited. Toriel picked her way over carefully, they could tell, but they still waited. When Toriel opened her maw to make another demand of what happened, they pulled their hands down their face—they didn’t look at her. 

“Tell me,” they whispered, “is it true?” 

Toriel froze. 

“Is what true?” she asked cautiously. 

“I have refrained from asking,” they continued. “I…never wanted to know. However…there was an incident on the Borders.” They could hear Toriel swallow, and slowly they raised their head until their red eyes pierced her. “They say a monster murdered a human…and devoured the soul.” 

Toriel gasped. Her paws raised up to cover her muzzle and they watched as her fur seemed to pale, as the magic that made up her being seemed to drain away until all that remained was the ashen color before the fall. They closed their eyes, all the answer they needed. Without a word they stood and once more brushed past Toriel who stared, unseeing, at where they sat moments before. 

“I…am sorry,” they said carefully, picking their words as they gently picked up their stave. “We…might not get the chance to meet like this again, Tori and I…regret that.” 

 _I regret so much that will happen, that has happened._  

A coward never asked a question that gnawed at them; a coward never shied away from the truth. Even now they slipped around it, refused to touch it—even now they feared it. They feared what the truth meant, and it burned at them. 

“Tell Asgore…what happens next, I would never have chosen,” they said, and the words tasted like death. They swept from the ruins, swept away from Toriel without another word. They kept their head down, forced back the tears that wanted to fall. They refused to look at her—to see how their words affected her. They cared, they cared so much that it hurt to even face the road before them. It hurt to leave like this—to know what they now knew and it hurt…they breathed out heavily. 

This path; it’d always been inevitable. They knew this as a small child—as they played with Toriel on the edges of the village, learned magic and traded secrets. With a rush of crimson magic they vanished, the sound of Toriel’s sobs echoed around them. The urge to comfort—to be there for her as they’d always been—tore at their heart, but they knew they couldn’t. Not now; not ever again.

* * *

The Borders existed like a large magical scar across the land. They stood jagged and dangerous in their intensity, and the perfect place for focus on magical studies and advancements. Veda lived and ran a local magical sanctuary off in the mountains fairly close to the Borders themselves. The Council placed Veda there since their studies into the advancements of magic—and of the SOUL—stood far above the rest of Veda’s compatriots. What better place to study the phenomenon than in the most magically saturated location possible? 

Veda didn’t mind. In fact despite the troubles that a remote location brought—food, shelter, stability, protection—the information Veda obtained just by being there advanced what humans knew of the SOUL by almost decades. Beyond that Veda still discovered more, and more, and more—their post at the Borders’ profits were numerous. The different things Veda learned not just about magic or the SOUL itself, but also in regards to the monsters and their community; it boggled the mind sometimes. 

The relationship on the Borders between monsters and humans Veda found fascinating. Due to the highly saturated magical area almost all of the human villages produced mage-born in some capacity; another part of why the Council placed Veda here in the first place. The monster clans that existed closest to the Borders were the most magically saturated creatures that Veda ever got to see. Skeletons, specters—monsters that held some form of close tie to humankind. 

The relationship between the two Veda found staggeringly strange—Veda came from one of the further inward locations, far beyond the Borders, and so the knowledge that out here monsters were almost revered they found strange. The villages and the clans worked closely together in rituals and practices. The humans’ death rites seemed to be a large point of focus. Veda couldn’t view the rights themselves, but the amount of magic the human communities put out in their death rites they could feel all the way high up in the mountains. 

From what little Veda discovered, when a death occurred in one of the human settlements on the Borders, the monster clans suddenly became insular. Only one representative from each clan could leave their lands, and they attended to the death rites. Veda still wondered what, specifically, they did in those rights; given the way the humans treated the monsters Veda bet the results would be fascinating to observe. Indeed already the knowledge that the humans’ graveyards were maintained, kept, and cared for by the monsters clans came to Veda with shock. 

Veda never heard of humans letting monsters so close to their dead. The entire idea stood for something taboo—something Veda never before thought about. The fact that the villagers often believed in death their loved ones would rise again as one of the monster-kind—a ridiculous notion, one with no real founding except in how strong the magic of the SOUL lingered in those graveyards—it gave Veda shivers. 

Now, though, now Veda’s hands shook. Carefully Veda raised one gloved digit up to their eye and pressed upon the magical lens that settled over their gaze. They replayed the _incident_ with a hoarse, almost broken laugh. Now Veda understood the secrecy, and a part of them wished they never did. 

_A corpse, bloodied and speared, spread thin and eagled in the way that only the truly despicable of humankind are treated. It still breathed; still lived by the slow rise and fall of the chest. The SOUL covered in an unhealthy line of **black**. The humans stood in a semi-circle, a shimmer of magic blurred the features around them, the ground, any of the specific details._

_A skeleton stepped forward, dressed in robes with a small lantern in one hand and a scythe in another. Its eyes glowed a bright violet, almost he shade of poison. The scythe rose up in the air, out of its hands, coated in thick magic. The lantern moved back and forth, a hypnotic sway. With an inhuman **shriek** the scythe bore down upon the soul; the human arched and then stilled. Cautiously the skeleton swung the lantern in a wide arc—_

_—it captured the **SOUL**. Two halves, hastily torn, trapped within flame. The skeleton stopped the swing of the lantern and the circle of humans converged onto the corpse. Blankets, flowers—small trinkets were lain down. The skeleton grasped the scythe in hand and took a step back; a small specter floated forward next. It’s body a bright cyan, and with that same light it enveloped the corpse and the trinkets. For a moment neither moved until the skeleton swung the lantern at just the right angle and—_

_—Veda couldn’t see. Too much brightness, static, and that horrendous shrieking filled their ears. Just as suddenly as they lost their vision did it return to see nothing left except the circle of humans. The barrier dispersed, the humans left. Veda couldn’t spot the monsters at first; they weren’t in the circle of humans or behind the barrier spell. In fact Veda didn’t see them again until the lens did a sweep. The two beings walked toward the graveyard, a floating procession of bright cyan light flared behind them. The specter suddenly **physical** and the amount of magic it put off made Veda’s head hurt._

_The SOUL; the specter absorbed the **SOUL**._

Veda took in another shuddered breath and closed their eyes. They tried to put out of mind how utterly disturbed the vision made them. They tapped the concentration of cyan magic at their eye and with a spark it snapped into nothing. The spell faded and left behind a simple jewel attached to the headdress Veda wore. Veda visibly sagged, leaned over onto themselves as they stared at the table they sat at. They didn’t really see the table—they still saw the SOUL and that inhuman shriek. They shuddered. 

A faint ping, a twitch on their magical senses, and Veda quickly got to their feet. They turned toward the archway and watched amber magic shimmer into the air, followed by Caprice who floated still for a second, knees bent. With lash the magic burst out, then left, and Caprice landed onto the ground with the tinkling of bells from her dress. Her hair tumbled to over her shoulder and she looked up, and then over toward Veda with a faint smile. Her eyes glowed bright amber as she looked Veda up and down. 

“Uncertainty befalls you,” Caprice hummed softly. 

Veda swallowed and looked away. 

“Where is the Commander?” Veda questioned softly. “I asked for their presence.” 

“Dearest sister is tending to flowers,” Caprice stepped away from the archway and over toward a free seat. She settled herself down with grace. “They’ll be here soon.” 

“This…needs their input,” Veda didn’t quite whine, although they felt like they should. They struggled to put into words what they wanted to say. “If I should—” 

“Should or shouldn’t,” Caprice interrupted softly. Her voice lilted almost like a song. “Wrong or right; history repeats over and over. Blood and bone and death come in the night.” She gave a slight sharp smile when Veda froze, words caught in their throat. “No escape; no time. Move onward through the mire and the muck, dear Veda.” She reached out a hand and cupped their cheek. “Move onward through the mire and the muck.” 

“That…does not help,” Veda said hoarsely, but Caprice just smiled sweetly back. 

“Sister will come,” Caprice mused. “When they are ready, sister will come. Until then…share with me, Veda.” Caprice stood from her chair and lightly tugged Veda up too. She gripped their arm and led them from the room. With a wave of her hand a soft, amber barrier snapped up into place. “Share with me,” Caprice whispered softly. She leaned against Veda and gave them a small smile. 

Veda, nervously, nodded and led her onward through the sanctuary. Caprice’s words rang through their ears, a haunting tune they would not soon forget.


End file.
